


Choices

by MightyPuff



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Assassination Plot(s), Battle Couple, F/F, F/M, Gen, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, No Smut, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Past Relationship(s), Poor Life Choices, Undecided Relationship(s), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 05:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18888007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MightyPuff/pseuds/MightyPuff
Summary: "Sometimes life puts you in difficult circumstances you didn't choose. But being happy or unhappy is a choice you make, and I've chosen to make the best of things that I can." -Shahvee





	Choices

There comes a time when one needs to stop, take a good look at their life at that moment and everything that led to said moment, and make a decision. It won't be easy. It won't come freely. There will be suffering and blood and loss. 

But are you going to let someone else limit you and your decisions? Are you going to stand by while events play on, uncontested?

Just what are you willing to put up with today? How about tomorrow? Next week? Next month? Next year?

Gods and dragons are no different. Mortals with dragon souls are no different. Specters of those who have long since perished are no different. Mortals turned daedric princes, who have lost everyone they've ever known, loved, and cared for, are no different.

Which would explain why, on Morndus, on the seventeenth of Last Seed in the two-hundred and first year of the Fourth Era, there was an interesting turn of events in the small town of Helgen in the icy, war-torn providence of Skyrim.

One person became not the Hero they, or anyone else, wanted to be but the Hero that was needed in unfortunate little Helgen after they were caught illegally crossing the border between Skyrim and Cyrodiil.

The whole town was filled with naught but screams and roars, fire and ash, as a dragon of midnight tore through the soldiers and commonfolk alike. Few paid attention to the prisoner following an Imperial soldier to the keep. Even fewer realized the Breton had become unbound by burning their rope bindings enough to remove them herself.

They had been quiet and cooperative since the whole mess started but she really could not hold back her words when the two Nords in front of her starting getting into it while a dragon black as night circled above them all. 

"Are you two bloody serious?" The two stopped bickering as the looked at their smaller companion in shock. 

The woman snapped at them with a snarl on her face. "You're going to argue over your petty little war with that-" Her rant got cut off by a roar from the flying fiend that was swiftly approaching their position again as if it had heard her referring to it amd it had decided the next victims. "That THING trying to slaughter us all?" 

Her words were luckily enough to silence the two, who finally agreed that together they have the best chance of surviving, into cooperation. She was right after all. The war could wait. Meanwhile the Breton could only sigh at the unsurprisingly petty antics that happened between the Stormcloaks and Imperials as the three ran through the keep. Luckily some of soldiers both sides saw reason in the face of this calamity thus opted to lend aid to one another rather than turn it into a wholesale slaughter as the world above burned.

Except for the bitch of a woman who had the gall to order the Hero's unjust execution. That wretched creature recieved a well placed fireball to the face without a shred of hesitation. Ralof and Hadvar wisely kept their mouths shut as they silently agreed that it was in the best interest of everyone arpund to not piss her off more.  
\----------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, a silvery haired male smiled as he sat on his throne-like chair among the misty plane of existence he's called home for quite some time now. He watched as the two at odds friends lead Stormcloaks and Legionaires alike to the small town of Riverwood while the poor sod that Nirn deigned their newest Hero followed some distance behind as they stocked up on alchemy regeants along the road.

He chuckled before sighing, resting his cheek on hand with his elbow propped up on the arm of his seat. He witnessed the mixed group of soldiers go their seperate ways after some food and rest with only the two once friends remaining with their families in Riverwood to possibly help should the dragon return to rain fiery death upon them.

Alone went the Hero to Whiterun, through the ancient barrow, and alone did they start a chain of events that they would not be able to escape. It mattered not whether they liked it or didn't for it was already written. That it was their lot in life. To be the great Hero of the Nordic tales yet having not a drop of Nord blood in them. Cruel irony at it's finest.

The Dragonborn. The mighty Dovahkiin. A stranger in foreign lands that should've said no, should've turned around and walked away while they still had the chance but didn't. Now they'll have to put on foot in front of the other without hesitation for all of Tamriel.

The man chuckled again and gave his neglected company a toothy grin. They saw the show same as he yet there was no dialogue, no commentary about it. It pleased him greatly.

"Cute, ain't it? None of 'em have the faintest clue of what's to come. Aye, not even I do. But I suppose I really don't need to know anymore than the rest o' 'em..."

Amber eyes shimmered with mirth and madness beneath the messy silver bangs as they bore into the visage of the Reluctant Hero. He knew what it was like first hand to be in that position. He knew how it will destroy them then remake them into someone, something, that they won't recognize as themselves anymore. It will tear them apart bit by bit then stitch them back up wrong yet right. Right for the world but it will never feel that way. Not to them.

The toothy grin turned feral as he threw back his head to laugh without a shred of restraint. Only once he regained a semblance of calm did he speak again to his silent company.

"Though I know one thing for certain... This will not end how you think it will."

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to Choices, the first instalment of what I intended to be a (at least) three part Elder Scrolls series that is going to go so off the main road that it isn't even funny. I can't really do novelizations of storylines and I always feel cheated because there is always other options that the Dovahkiin, HoK, and Nerevarine could have made. I can't make promises on update schedules but I can say I'll post character profiles by the end of the year.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy.


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